


go quietly

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: The Paper Chase (1973)
Genre: M/M, at any rate here's this, i've been wanting to write fic for this movie for years, if only hart wasn't with susan, it is painfully obvious that ford has a crush on hart, she's clearly too good for him anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: There was approximately 30 minutes between the time Ford found the note sitting on his desk and the time he found himself crawling up the damn vent again.Hart asks Ford to meet him in the Red Set room. Ford assumes he just wants someone to listen to him talk about Kingsfield. He's only partially correct.
Relationships: Ford/Hart





	go quietly

There was approximately 30 minutes between the time Ford found the note sitting on his desk and the time he found himself crawling up the damn vent again. Those 30 minutes gave him plenty of time to consider numerous facts, such as that Hart, despite being very strange and more than a little obsessed with Kingsfield, was really the only person Ford would consider a friend, and that they hadn’t gotten caught the last time they were up in the Red Set room, probably because no student before Hart had cared as much about getting their hands on their professors’ ancient notes.

The thought that had finally propelled him up the vent was that he knew, much as he tried not to think about it, that he would do almost anything Hart asked him to, and this had been true from the first day they had met. Ford may be a genius from a long line of Harvard-educated lawyers, but unfortunately that did not make him immune to a charming, if eccentric, personality coupled with an attractive face.

“Godammit,” he muttered as he hauled himself up onto the floor of the Red Set room. At least he knew he was a sucker, which had to count for something, right?

A soft light filtered out from under one of the bookshelves, and Ford clicked his own flashlight on and made his way over to the source of the light.

Predictably, Hart was seated on the floor, leaning against one of the shelves, a notebook in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He looked up and offered Ford a lazy smile as he turned the corner. “I’m beginning to think Kingsfield literally saw himself as some sort of God of the Law, right from the beginning. It’d certainly explain his behavior as a professor.”

“And I’m beginning to think you see yourself as this god’s loyal disciple,” Ford answered dryly, settling himself next to Hart, the box of notebooks between them. He aimed his flashlight beam at Hart’s chest accusingly. “You spend too much time trying to get inside his head.”

Hart shrugged, closing the notebook and placing it back in its case. “I simply seek to learn, and that’s where the knowledge is kept.” He glanced down at the box of notebooks. “These notes, his notes, are less knowledge and more autobiography.”

“Which, of course, you find fascinating.” Ford clicked off his flashlight and slouched down further against the bookcase, resigned to hearing Hart wax poetic about Kingsfield yet again. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hart got to his feet, then picked up the box and replaced it on the shelf in front of them.

Hart remained standing, peering down at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. His flashlight remained trained on the floor between them, barely enough light to illuminate them both. After a moment’s pause wherein Hart kept staring at him and Ford eventually turned his head away, Hart finally spoke. “Aren’t you at all curious about why I asked you to join me up here?”

Ford scoffed, still facing away from his friend. “You’re the one who apparently snuck into my room to leave me a cryptic note about meeting you here. You tell me.”

Hart laughed, and Ford turned to look at him once again. Hart settled himself down next to him again, closer now that there was no case between them. “Very well then, I shall tell you: You are curious.”

“Excellent detective work,” Ford muttered.

“You know,” Hart began. His flashlight pointed at their shoes, nearly touching the shelves in front of them. “I don’t think any other students come up here.”

Ford laughed. “And why would they? I don’t think anyone else is quite as committed to their studies as you are. At least, not in this particular way.”

“And so the only time anyone would know we were up here is during the day, when the library is open,” Hart continued as if Ford hadn’t spoken.

Ford chewed his bottom lip, getting tired of running in verbal circles. “What exactly are you getting at, Hart?”

Hart turned to look at him fully. Their gazes locked on each other’s. In the dim light, it was nearly impossible for Ford to make out Hart’s expression. Then Hart clicked his flashlight off.

“What—” Ford started to ask, but cut off, startled, when he felt Hart’s hand settle on the side of his face. He dropped his own flashlight and heard it rolling away. As Hart’s fingers gently stroked his cheek, he let out an involuntary sigh.

“I’ve, umm,” Hart said. “I’ve been thinking about this, umm. For a bit.”

Ford hadn’t heard him at such a loss for words since the beginning of the school year. It calmed him down somewhat. “You have?”

“Yeah,” Hart said. Ford both heard and felt his sharp intake of breath, then: “Haven’t you?”

Ford had a brief moment of feeling victorious at now having the upper hand in this situation, then Hart’s hand began to move away from his face, suddenly hesitant. “Hey,” Ford said, catching his hand and holding it in his own. “Yeah. I have. I just…”

There was no light in the room, but Ford could easily guess at the expression on Hart’s face. It probably looked a lot like his own: surprise, recognition, relief.

“You just didn’t think I felt this way,” Hart said, finishing his sentence.

“Well, yeah.”

“But I do.”

“And so do I.” All of a sudden, Ford found himself about to laugh. He hoped Hart wouldn’t misconstrue its cause.

The laugh escaped his throat at the same time Hart let out a barking laugh of his own, which startled them both into even more laughter.

“Shh, shh,” Ford managed through his giggles, squeezing Hart’s hand in warning.

“Didn’t we just establish that no one’s around to hear us up here?”

“Aha,” Ford said, grinning, “so that’s what you were getting at earlier.”

“You truly are a genius,” Hart replied, patronizing. It was a good thing Ford could tell that Hart was sporting a matching grin, or he might have been offended at the tone of voice.

“So,” Ford said.

“So,” Hart echoed, lacing their fingers together, which caused Ford to blush entirely against his will.

“If we’re gonna keep coming up here, I say we make it a priority to find an easier way in,” Ford said.

“Oh, we’re definitely going to keep coming up here,” Hart said with a smirk in his voice. He leaned in closer, and Ford met him halfway, their noses brushing before their lips finally met.

When they broke apart, Hart clicked his flashlight back on, illuminating the bookshelves in front of them; the boxes of Kingsfield’s notes seemed to glow. After a moment, he turned back to Ford, looking mischievous.

“What?” Ford asked, a little wary.

“To think, we owe it all to contract law,” Hart said.

“Ugh, shut up,” Ford groaned, and leaned back in, both of them laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> you know the scene where they're reading kingsfield's notes and there's that shot where the camera is partially behind a bookcase and all you can see is ford's legs lit up by their flashlight beam? i'd like to thank that scene for inspiring me to write this fic. also, despite having seen this movie a ridiculous number of times, i don't actually know how they climb up into the red set room from outside. i am just assuming it's a vent shaft?? but i could be wrong.


End file.
